


The Punishment Himself and Wendy Darling

by AerisCruent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AerisFic, Dark, Darling Pan - Freeform, F/M, Fanfiction, Passion, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerisCruent/pseuds/AerisCruent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark(ish)!Darling Pan.</p><p>Wendy got wounded by one of the Lost Boys, and although it was not his fault, Peter wants to punish them. And also his Wendy-bird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Punishment Himself and Wendy Darling

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote it for a prompt, but then I realized how different this story is from what I was supposed to write, but I decided to finish it.  
> English is not my native language, so it would be great if you'd tell me my mistakes =)  
> I hope you like it!

"Wendy, wait." She heard it from safe distance as she stepped through the thick woods, filled with anger. She couldn’t tell where she went, just far from the camp and far away from him.

"No!" She shouted. "I don’t want to talk to you."

But as she said this, something (someone) appeared from the nowhere in front of her. She had no time to react, she just collided with him, then tried to step back, but she could feel something wrapping around her waist, keeping her tightly.

Of course, his arms. _Always_ his arms.

As she looked up, Peter looked down at her piercingly, _too_ seriously, with his face so close to hers, that she could feel his breathe.

"I think you have to."

She tried to free herself from his suffocating, embarrassingly tense hug, but all she did just made him keeping her harder.

"I will punish them." He said quietly. "All of them. They will regret that they’ve ever - "

"Stop it!" She shouted at him. "It was just a simply game, it’s not their fault!"

His eyes blinked as a sharp knife.

"Oh, it is. They were supposed to take care of you as if…" But he didn’t finish. He let her go with his right hand. "And here you are."

She felt a soft, surprisingly soft touch on her face as his fingertips ran on her skin. The cut was still bleeding, but his touch burned more than that. She tried to make herself to put some resistance, but she just… couldn’t.

She just stared at Peter’s distant look, as he gazed at her, then he pulled his fingers to his face. There was blood on them. Her blood. He looked her in the eye with a light, cold smile in the corner of his mouth, and then (Wendy even forgot to breathe) he ran his fingers over his lips, and licked her blood (her _red, possibly still warm_ blood) off of them.

She found it very (very, very) sickening, so she just couldn’t understand why her heart skipped a beat, and why she felt that her whole body was getting so warmed up, that she thought she might melt.

"I’m gonna punish them" He repeated as his face was getting dangerously closer and closer to hers. "I won’t let you fear _them_.”

Suddenly, this sentence put her off of his spell. She could move again, and with all her strength and anger, she pushed him away from herself. He let her, and fell to the ground laughing.

_You are the one I fear._

She wanted to scream this, but the words stopped in her throat when Peter pulled his right hand to his face, grinned and turned his palm to her.

It bled.

She swallowed and flinched as he stood up.

"So my little bird _can_ scratch” He laughed smugly, and this cruel tone of his voice made her shiver. She would step back, away from him, from the punishment, but she came up against a tree.

There was no escape.

Peter approached her slowly ( _too_ slowly) getting closer and closer and closer, but when he got her within his reach, he stopped.

"Make it better." He said gloatingly.

"What?" The desperate question ran out of her.

"Make it better." He whispered, but now every drop of taunt faded from his face and voice. He stepped one forward, closing the distance between them. Every cell of her screamed to run (run, run, run away). But Peter leaned his hand against the tree next to her head, pushed his body against hers, trapping her.

So she picked up every single part of her courage, and faced him. Faced this twist-minded king.

"How?" Her voice was strong, though she was terrified inside.

He didn’t smile. Not at all.

"This way." He breathed, then instead of answer, he grabbed her waist, pulled her up as if she was nothing but a feather, so their faces leveled with each other, but he didn’t look her in the eye, no, he bent down to her neck, buried his face into her hair, inhaled her, while shoved himself closer to her, closer and closer, between her legs, so she was forced to wrap them around his waist.

And then the kisses came. Ones that made her shiver, so gentle and barely sense-able, she could feel the thrill running down her spine. Ones that left behind that burning, sizzling, aching fusion of pain and… and _something else…_ On her shoulder, on her neck, behind her ear, on her face where the cut was, over her chin, along her neck, then he reached her collarbone, and -

"Peter, plea - "

But she cut short. She knew challenging him would only made him go further.

So she just closed her eyes and…

_And gave in._

She felt how strongly Peter’s left hand gripped her thigh, and slowly he let her go with his right hand to dig his fingers into other parts of her body. Being afraid of slipping down, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and she hugged him with her legs even more tightly, so he pushed himself against her more and more and more and… and he was shivering as he kissed her, as he scratched her skin with his teeth, and he squeezed her, squeezed her so hard, that her back hurt as he pressed her against the trunk. She could barely breathe, her lungs had no room, so she needed to fight for every catch of air, but she was so… _so_ in fever she couldn’t care. His consuming presence, his selfish touch, his lips on her pulsing body, his words as he gasped…

_Wendy… Wendy… my little… bird… Wendy…_

_Everything_ overwhelmed her.

Each sigh into her neck, into her hair was like as if something was exploding inside her. Her skin, her flesh, her bones, her _everything_ ached, her inside burned, and when his mouth stuck on her neck, and she sensed this sucking feeling, and in the next moment he already bit her ear, she couldn’t help but let a groan out of her lungs into his neck, and she caught herself biting him violently, scratching his nape sore with her nails, and her fingers running through his hair, grabbing it so hard it might hurt him.

Recognizing all of this, she suddenly stopped, looked up, then got unmoving, and let go. Let go of his _soft, smooth hair._

Peter straightened up, the lack of his breath left behind something very cold. He looked up at Wendy, he leaned his forehead against hers. They stared each other for a long moment, they broke the silence of the forest as they panted, and then Peter closed his eyes, and he looked so fragile, _so fragile…_

"Your turn." His words sprang to her lips with his breath, she more felt them than heard them.

She didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted (desired, craved, _needed_ ) to bend forward, and kiss him, kiss his life, his mind, his soul out of him, scratch marks into his skin, bite his lips, his neck, his ear, pull his hair so strong that it would make him suffering. She wanted to be selfish, yes, just as selfish as he is, wanted this, but…

But there was an other part of her. A part which didn’t ask for any of this. For that part, every touch and word and heartbeat with him… was just pain. And now, seeing Peter _so defenseless, so vulnerable_ , leaning his head against hers… She could see that right now she could do to him anything she wanted.

But she… she just couldn’t.

Because she was _not_ like Peter Pan.

She won’t lie to him that this punishment was okay, that he’s free to do anything to her because she lets him. She won’t lie to him that she lets him have her.

Because only Wendy Darling could have Wendy Darling.

So she just ran her hand over his face, took his right hand, held it between hers, and breathed a soft kiss on his palm, on his wound.

He opened his eyes, and looked at her as if he knew what was going on in her head.

Probably he did.

Probably both knew that this is what Wendy Darling would do.

And she was here, right here with him, she wasn’t lost, he couldn’t make her.

…

_Yet._


End file.
